


The Fortune Teller

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Jemma has no chill, Pranks, Prophetic Visions, Shirtless Fitz, Spoilers for 3x15, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 3x15, Jemma decides to use Fitz's belief in fate for her own (wicked?) purposes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fortune Teller

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clearascountryair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearascountryair/gifts).



> [As requested.](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/post/142331541612/clearascountryair-agent-85-okay-but-you-know)

It had been a long time since Fitz had legitimately screamed like a girl, and once she got over the shock of the explosion, she enjoyed every minute of it.

"What just happened?"

Fitz looked to the left, then to the right, as if the answer to her question would materialize right there in the lab. After a frantic search, he threw up his hands.

"Well," she said, looking around herself, "whatever it was, it didn't seem to do any damage. Though I'm sure that _something_ is . . . Fitz!"

Fitz turned to her, distracted. "Hmm?"

"This is exactly what happened in Daisy's vision!"

She had his full attention now, complete with a furrowed brow. "But I thought that just had us in the snow! Or ash, or whatever."

"Yes, but there was a _second_ vision, from when they were on the roof! Daisy told me all about it. There was a small explosion, and you screamed—"

"I didn't—"

"And after I explained that it was part of a vision, you took your shirt off!"

"Jemma, I didn't—I _what_?"

Jemma took a steadying breath. "You, uh, you took your shirt off. Because of the fire."

" _FIRE?_ "

He pulled his shirt over his head without further argument and yes, those were exactly the kind of pectoral muscles that Jemma had hoped for. 

"Now what?" asked Fitz, breathing heavy. 

Jemma opened her mouth to tell him when a blast of fire—actual fire—came out of nowhere, right behind Fitz, and he lunged forward, almost smacking into her.

"There," she said, looking up at him as her breath caught, "that worked out, didn't it?"

Fitz looked down at his shirt, still clutched tightly in his hand.

"What's next?"

"Well," she said, and she could tell she wasn't the only one who was having trouble breathing, "you, uh, Daisy said you said I was beautiful."

"You are," he breathed.

It seemed that he was getting closer with every breath, every heartbeat, and it was natural for her to close that distance, for her hand to rest on his chest, and for her fingers to comb through his curls as she—

"What happened?" shouted Daisy as she crashed into the lab. "Are you okay? Are you—wait." She put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "What's going on here," she deadpanned.

"Your vision," blurted Jemma, "it came true!"

Daisy blinked at her, and was Jemma sweating?

"My vision was about the quinjet in space."

" _And_ an explosion in the lab, remember?" Jemma couldn't give a more obvious wink if she tried. "And we're almost at the part where Fitz needs mouth to mouth! Because of the poison gas!"  

" _Oh_ ," said Daisy. " _Right_. I better go look for that evil gas dispenser . . . thing."

Daisy disappeared almost as quickly as Jemma wanted her to, and when she turned back to her best friend there he was, shirtless and staring at her.

"She's a regular Cassandra these days," he remarked, and he seemed to gravitate closer.

"I hope we're kinder than the Trojans," she breathed.

"I'd hope we'd be smarter, too. After all, we've already outwitted a thermite reaction with iron oxide and an aluminum catalyst, not to mention an automated flame thrower."

Jemma gulped as white hot shame cut through her like a knife. He'd seen right through her, of course he had, and now he was going to . . . put his hands on her waist?

"So, um." He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "When were you going to save my life, exactly?"

Jemma probably should have at least batted an eyelash, but she didn't. After all, she had a prime opportunity to kiss Fitz.

And she took it.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I must thank [ruthedotcom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthedotcom/pseuds/ruthedotcom)/[omgfitzsimmons](http://omgfitzsimmons.tumblr.com/) for being my science super hero!
> 
> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


End file.
